


Hard Conversations in the Hangar

by F-117 Nighthawk (F117_Nighthawk)



Series: We Take Our Places in the Dark (and Turn Our Hearts to the Stars) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Hates Sand, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin talks about his past with Ahsoka, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Death in Backstory, Obi-Wan is the only one that can convince Anakin to do anything, Panic Attacks, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Slavery, and he also doesn't like being called master, god they're both too young to be leading a war, post The Clone Wars movie, well when Padme isnt' around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F117_Nighthawk/pseuds/F-117%20Nighthawk
Summary: After leaving Tatooine, sans huttlett, Anakin can't sleep. He ends up in the hangar, where Obi-Wan drags half of the reason out of him and convinces him to tell Ahsoka the other half.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Series: We Take Our Places in the Dark (and Turn Our Hearts to the Stars) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590130
Comments: 17
Kudos: 587





	Hard Conversations in the Hangar

**Author's Note:**

> me, several hours ago: I'm gonna write this fic that is probably like 1.5k and then write some voltron stuff  
> me, now: _glances at wordcount_ oops?

“Did you know, it’s gotten to the point that if Rex or Cody see you down here at night they immediately call me?”

Anakin ignored the unspoken “this is a bad thing that you are down here right now, please go to sleep” from his former Master and continued poking at the engines of the _Twilight._ (He still didn’t know how he’d managed to convince Yularen to pick it up, the Admiral hadn’t known him long enough yet to simply sigh and bow to his whims when it came to ships as Avven had before the whole debacle above Hoth. Maybe Obi-Wan had convinced him. Probably, considering he was down here.)

“So?”

Obi-Wan sighed and sat down on the deck next to him. “So most of the time I’ve found you in various hangar bays in the middle of the night, you’re trying to push something upsetting to the back of your mind.”

“What, I’m not allowed to fix ships anymore?”

“You were back on Tatooine. I don’t believe this is just you “fixing ships.””

Anakin didn’t deign dignify that with a response and continued removing debris from the engine he was elbows deep in. Obi-Wan was content to sit there, cross-legged on the floor, seemingly meditating. He was radiating calm in the Force, and a gentle current of encouragement that he was there and willing to listen. Anakin _knew_ that was eventually going to break his resolve to _not talk about it,_ but, here he was. Leaving meant going back to his freezing cold room (it was cold, so much colder than normal, there had to be something wrong with the thermostat), back to futile attempts to sleep, to the nightmares edging on his vision. Staying here, though, meant admitting Obi-Wan was right (which a younger him would have stubbornly called worse, but he was just so _tired_ and maybe, for once, talking about it would help and if he couldn’t talk to Padmé, well, Obi-Wan was practically the father he never had.)

He sighed, not quite ready to admit defeat. “If you’re going to sit there, you could at least pass me a hydrospanner.” Obi-Wan obligingly floated a hydrospanner up to him from the toolbox, not moving from his meditation. Anakin grabbed it with a grunt of acknowledgment and started removing rusted bolts. 

Silence stretched out between them, stretching the lump in Anakin’s throat until it felt like it was choking him, blocking all the air from his lungs as he tried to just keep working, ignore the thoughts crowding his mind because it was _cold and Ahsoka hadn’t been there and_

“I didn’t remember how cold that slimeball’s palace was.”

“...I didn’t know you’d spent any time at Jabba’s Palace.”

Anakin huffed a laugh just the wrong edge of hysterical. “I was _three._ God the slave-quarters were so _cold,_ especially at night. Mom used to wrap me in every blanket we had and then curl up around me just so I’d stop shivering. One time one of the “courtiers” slapped Mom for doing something, and Gardulla slapped them back for hurting her favorite slave.”

The image of his mother almost flying across the room was seared into his brain, the bounty hunter’s laughing face as she held her bleeding cheek and cowered to the ground, trying to avoid the rest of the cajoling, the leering down at her, the threat of more slaps before Gardulla came barreling in as slow as only a Hutt could, tail shaking with fury as she screamed in the bounty hunter’s face before she hit them with it. He could still remember feeling Shmi’s pain and fear and the inner, underlying fury she always held as he reached out to her with both a tiny hand and his fledgling Force powers, trying to soothe her as only he could. 

And then came Jabba, who thought it was funny to trip Shmi with his tail every chance he got. (That was how he knew what Hutt slime tasted like, because one time she had broken her nose, and he’d been so angry the only thing his three-year-old, Force-sensitive mind could come up with was to pin Jabba’s tail down and bite it. Jabba had been about to sell them just for that before Gardulla lost them to Watto.)

(Hutt slime didn’t taste very good.)

Some part of that must have accidentally transferred over their bond, because Obi-Wan winced outwardly and very clearly had to hold his sorrow back from the bond (which was good, he knew how much he hated pity for that time).

“And the worst part,” Anakin continued. He’d given up on getting his shaking hands to cooperate with the hydrospanner, moving them out of the engine and sitting back on his heels. “And the worst part is I didn’t register that in the moment because I was too busy pointing a lightsaber at the sleemo, because Ahsoka _wasn’t there_ and, Obi-Wan, he’s a _slaver_ and she’s _fourteen_ if I hadn’t gotten there before her he probably wouldn’t have just decided to kill us he’d--he’d--” Force he couldn’t say it out loud because that would make the possibility _real_ and he felt like he was going to throw up.

Obi-Wan glanced at the toolbox that was floating a good half-meter in the air, idly hoping it was the only thing in the vicinity that was doing so because Anakin hadn’t lost control in a while and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be here when the damn finally broke. (And he was certain that at some point, after a particularly grueling mission, after he was forced to walk through yet another slaver’s palace and not _help,_ that he would, that every tool, perhaps even every _ship_ in the hangar bay would be hovering a meter off the ground as Anakin stood unaware at the centre of a storm of wayward tools and the smell of ozone that seemed to come from nowhere and either Ahsoka or Yularen or Rex would have to be the one to talk him down without the experience of it happening innumerable times on trips back to the Temple after missions gone sideways and exhausting.)

“Easy there, Anakin. She’s fine, nothing happened, and you were there to help if Jabba did try anything.”

“Torgruta don’t do well on Tatooine. She--There was a Torgruta kid, that used to run around with Pala. She hated it on Tatooine, it was always too hot compared to Shili. Jabba owned her at one point, and every time there was a sandstorm he’d pull all his slaves into the quarters in the palace. One time--one time one of the majordomos forced her to go outside during a sandstorm. When we finally found her, her montrails had been so abraided by the sand she could barely move. She died a few days later. Obi-Wan, I can’t-- _I can’t let that happen to her, I can’t.”_

Anakin was shaking like a leaf, his mechanical hand protesting how hard he was clenching it. Obi-Wan scooted closer, wrapping a comforting arm around his former Padawan’s shoulders and pulling him as close as he could. The other leaned into the contact, leaned into the circles Obi-Wan was rubbing in his shoulders, leaned into their Force Bond as it filled with comforting love and reassurances. 

When Anakin had finally stopped shaking, he pulled away slightly, rubbing his face with his natural hand. “Sorry.”

“Anakin. Look at me.”

Anakin glanced up, eyes red.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. They are valid fears. You know how hard I would fight for you to never be subjected to that again, and I know you would fight just as hard for her. I would fight for her, and she would fight for you, even if she doesn’t know about your history with it.”

“...Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, are you well enough to eat? I think you need to get out of the hangar for a bit, I believe it’s breakfast time, and I know the last time you had an opportunity to eat was on your way to Teth.”

* * *

Ahsoka wandered into the mess hall, feeling much better than she had before she fell asleep. She could tell Anakin was in the hall just by the sheer ferocity of his Force presence, but she couldn’t actually tell how he _was._ She knew he hadn’t fallen asleep before she did, and was pretty sure (but it might have been a dream) that he’d poked his head into her bunk at some point during the night with his Force presence tightly locked down (she’d definitely dreamed the note of panic on the edge of it, though). Given the tired edge to his still-locked-down Force presence, he probably hadn’t slept at all.

Food in hand, she made her way over to where she thought he was and was mostly unsurprised to find Obi-Wan sitting across from him, glaring at the Knight.

“Anakin, _what_ conversation have we had far more times than I can count?”

He sighed and glared off into the distance, chin resting in his right hand. “That the cost of turning up the heat in my room by a few degrees is nothing compared to the cost of me not sleeping. I _know.”_

“So why don’t you _ask?”_

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind to do so last night.”

“This was not your first night on the _Resolute--”_

“Force, fine, I’ll go find whoever’s in charge and ask them after breakfast.”

“Am I… interrupting something?”

The two glanced up at her and she took the time to study them. Obi-Wan was as unflappable as he’d always seemed on the holovids, but something seemed to light up in his eyes when he saw her. Anakin looked… tired. More tired than he should have been, even if he had been up for at least three standard days straight. There was something just slightly _off_ in his Force presence, a pain that was deep-seated and old, a wound that had had its scab torn off. Even so, he relaxed when he saw her, something uncurling into something soft. He reached out over their newly created Force Bond, a warm hello with an undercurrent of that soft thing. She smiled and reached back, grabbing on and saying hello back, still so thrilled that she could do this with _Anakin Skywalker._

“Not at all, young one. Please, sit down.”

She sat down next to Anakin and shoveled some sort of sausage into her mouth. “So, what _were_ you talking about?”

“Anakin doesn’t sleep well in the cold.”

“Hey. I can sleep anywhere.”

“Not in the cold. Trust me, Ahsoka, he may say he can but even a Courscanti winter can make it so he can’t sleep.”

 _"Hey!_ No telling my Padawan my weaknesses.”

“It’s my job, as a sort of, ah, grand-parent-master?”

“You’re lucky Qui-Gon isn’t around to tell me all your embarrassing secrets,” Anakin mumbled into his food, and then instantly seemed to regret it. “Ah, sorry.”

“I’m sure Master Yoda told you enough of them anyway.”

Ahsoka hid a smile in her food. The image of the Jedi Order’s Grandmaster telling a teenage Anakin Skywalker all of Obi-Wan’s secrets was too hilarious to not laugh. 

“Well, I suppose I should let you two get on with your day,” Obi-Wan said, shuffling utensils into a stack. 

“What _are_ we doing today, Master?”

None of them missed the flinch that ran through Anakin’s body. Obi-Wan paused halfway through standing up, a pointed look on his face. Ahsoka looked between the two of them, confused. Anakin sighed and made a flapping motion with his hand. _“Yes, okay, you made your point earlier._ Away with you, I think Yoda wanted to see you.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “As long as you _actually mention it.”_

“I _will._ Sheesh. _And_ before you mention it again I _will_ talk to the damn maintenance crew.”

“Good. Maybe you should head back to the hangar, and then when you’ve _had that conversation,_ you can show your Padawan how you control psychometry powers on that hunk of junk you were fixing.”

“You mean the _Twilight?_ That is a good--wait, didn’t you just drag me out of the hangar?” Anakin squinted at him, “Why are you telling me to go back?”

Obi-Wan just gave him a knowing smile. “See you later, Anakin, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka waited until Obi-Wan was out of sight before putting her spork down. “Sooooooo… what was that about.”

Anakin took a deep breath. “How about I tell you once we’re in the hangar?”

* * *

Anakin realized about the time they got down to where the remains of the _Twilight_ were sitting why Obi-Wan had told him to come back down here. He felt more at ease with himself here, surrounded by ships and droids and mechanical creations he knew inside and out. Artoo beeped at him as they approached, giving him a little wave with his periscope. He smiled and patted the droid on the head. “Hey, Artoo. Think you could find me some bolts for the engines to replace the rusty ones?”

The droid twirtled and trundled off into the hangar. Anakin hopped up on top of the engine he’d been working on earlier and started pulling rusted plating off. “Well, I guess we can’t really start fixing this until Artoo gets back with the bolts. I wonder if there’s something else…”

“Uh, didn’t Master Obi-Wan tell you to tell me something?”

“Oh. Right.” Force, he was dreading this conversation, but he knew he had to have it if things like last night were going to keep happening. (And he knew they were because sometimes they visited slimepits like Tatooine, and sometimes they ran into something they shouldn’t have, and sometimes the Seps were worse than anyone could imagine, and sometimes there were just Bad Days where he stayed in the hangar for too long and made all the _Torrent-_ class fighters two times faster. He’d argue that time wasn’t _bad,_ it had just… surprised the pilots. And the vulture droids fighting them, which was the point.)

“I--Force, where do I even start with this. Okay. You know I’m not the most… orthodox Jedi at this point. And I’m willing to bet you know I wasn’t raised in the Temple.”

She nodded. “I was only three, but I still remember the rumors trickling down about the prophecy of the Chosen One.”

Anakin looked appalled. “First of all, I just realized I’m only six years older than you and that’s kriffing weird, who trusted me with a Padawan. Second, dear _Force,_ they were calling me that to the _entire order_ even at that point?”

“Well, not formally, but we overheard it from the creche teachers, who probably learned it from Master Yoda and Master Windu talking about it. As I said, trickled down. None of us had any idea what it meant at that point, but we got the impression it meant a lot to everyone else.”

Anakin buried his face in his hands for a few moments and muttered something Ahsoka couldn’t make out before he looked at her again. When he did, his face was a lot more serious than before, a faraway look in his eyes. “I… before I came to the Temple, I was raised on Tatooine. No, don’t interrupt, let me get this out, it’s important. Tatooine isn’t the sort of place you stay willingly. My mother… my mother was born in the Mid Rim. Her family got captured by pirates and sold into slavery. I spent the first nine years of my life as a slave.

“That isn’t… isn’t really the sort of thing you get over in a day, no matter how much I wish I did. Obi-Wan would confirm that it took me _years_ to address anyone as “Master” without flinching. Sometimes I still can’t. And… I didn’t really realize this until you came along, but, sometimes addressing _me_ as “master” is just as bad. It hits that part of my brain and feels like _I’m_ the one that… does things. To people.” He had to shove the memories back by reaching into the engine and pulling more rusted bolts out, using just his mechanical hand and the Force. Ahsoka didn’t know how to shield the bond yet, and he wasn’t sure his control was at the point where he could shield it for her at this point considering he knew he’d been floating toolboxes around involuntarily earlier. She didn’t deserve to feel the pain in all those memories. “But I promise you, I will _never_ do _anything_ like they did, and I will _never_ let you experience what I did. I will do everything in my power to keep you _safe._

“So uh, if I ever flinch at that word? It’s not your fault, and not like… a rejection of you as a person or something. It’s just… a lot of ingrained reactions that I haven’t been able to get rid of. And unless we’re in front of the Council or something formal like that where Windu will get all snappy if you don’t, you don’t have to call me it. Obi-Wan doesn’t care, he dealt with me being all… that… those first few years, and I don’t think Yoda cares either, so you don’t have to be formal in front of them. And uh. Yeah. That’s a lot and I’m sorry I had to spring that on you on like. Your second day of Padawan-hood.”

Ahsoka studied him, with her eyes and the Force. His face was guarded, just like the inner parts of his Force-presence, but his eyes were pleading with her to understand. She got that he’d just bared part of his soul to her. He was a swirl of emotions she’d always been taught were unbecoming of a Jedi: anger, at himself and others but not at her, directed at the whole planet of Tatooine, a deep sorrow at events he’d seen, a twinge of apprehension _(fear, it was fear, he was the Hero With No Fear, and yet he was still afraid of her rejecting what he’d said, of her laughing in his face at his problems),_ and an undercurrent of something she couldn’t quite trace, but it was that _soft_ feeling he’d had earlier. It had flared stronger when he’d declared that he would never let her experience what he had, spilling into the bond and overtaking his entire Force presence. 

_(Love. That soft feeling was love. He was the greatest Jedi Knight of their generation, and he was still susceptible to feelings like love.)_

Ahsoka gave him a soft smile, trying to display her acceptance of his explanation and request that wasn’t quite a request. “Alright. I think I can handle that.”

His shoulders relaxed, his Force presence calming slightly. “Thank you.”

“--Skyguy.”

She received a mock glare and gave him a smirk in return. He rolled his eyes. “Just don’t call me that in front of Yoda. I’d never hear the end of it. Alright, heavy stuff is done, you wanna learn how to fix a ship with the power of your mind?”

**Author's Note:**

> I read a Revan fic that included him accidentally causing things to float around him when he was either really emotional or concentrating too hard, and I see a lot of similarities between how I write Revan and Anakin's clone wars characterization and was like "huh, what if that's just, a _thing_ that the "chosen ones" of the generation tend to do because they're so naturally powerful that it just kinda... spills out. So now I guess Anakin does it too.


End file.
